In Hindsight
by ShadowsBladeRogue
Summary: Rouge is a serving girl in an inn of a rich duchy. By accident she runs into someone most know and fear: Shadow, one of two commanding generals in the military. It wasn't intentional, but in hindsight, maybe falling in love with him wasn't a good idea. RS
1. Two Lives

In Hindsight

_Disclaimer: I don't own Sonic the Hedgehog, never will, sadly…_

Chapter One: Two Lives

* * *

It was twilight. Smoke rose in thick columns among the ashen remains of once proud trees, curling into the air and dissipating in slow, lazy waves. The field was bloody; the tattered remains of the decimated army, once a thousand strong, lay where they fell among the broken and cold bodies of their enemies. A groan cut through the air, softly, where one or two soldiers still had the energy left to form words. Burning wood and blazing fires cast eerie shadows across the still landscape.

A single warrior stood, amidst the rampant death that still clung to the battlefield even hours after the clash; a splintered and cracked shield bearing a gleaming green gem and two golden rings dragging at one arm and a broadsword stained crimson dangling from another. A form melted into being next to him out of the smoke and fog, standing proud though no less beaten and adorned with his own armaments.

"It's all clear. The left flank is intact, but the right flank was destroyed. How are the men on the forefront?" The newcomer cast a steely purple gaze across the torn field; not a flicker of emotion in his eyes at the carnage. Beside him the warrior seemed to snap out of his stony vigil, a snort and the hissing of a blade being sheathed the initial response he gave. At last, he spoke.

"It's rather effortless to see, Knuckles. They're either dead or dying; not a one among them still standing, save me." Knuckles turned to him, a smirk pulling at the end of his muzzle, a fleeting glimmer of something passing through his eyes.

"Save you. Why am I not surprised?" Knuckles turned away, neither hearing nor caring for a response, and flipped the nearest corpse over with a leather-clad foot. The body came up washed out and bloated, flies beginning to gather among the decay. "You'll have to be the one to report this; you know that, right, Shadow?"

It was Shadow's turn to smirk. "I'm well aware."

* * *

"Rouge! Where is that dish I ordered? The table at the back is getting rowdy!"

"I'm on it!" A white bat shouted back, straightening from her chore of pulling a clean apron out of a cabinet. She grumbled under her breath as she tied it around her slim waist.

"_Rouge_! I need that dish _now_!"

"I'm coming already, didn't you hear me the first time?!"

The dish the innkeeper was so adamant about lay prepped and ready for delivery on the wooden counter, still steaming even a quarter hour after being cooked; the chef had done a spectacular job, as per usual. Rouge swept it up into her gloved hand with practiced ease, blowing past the other serving girls with a grace borne naturally to a bat and out into the common room. The inn was abnormally busy that night, due to the fact that a tournament was being held up at the lord's manor in a fortnight and a festival was being set up in the village square in celebration. Men from all around the duchy, and some even farther, traveled to her hometown of Knothole to participate, and as such there was a wide variety of customers to observe during her free time.

Not like she was _getting_ any free time with all this business, of course. Is she were to take a break her salary—meager as it was—would be cut, and Rouge wouldn't stand for that, not under any circumstances.

The innkeeper--a rotund panda bear by the name of Carthy—hadn't been joking, it seemed; the table in the rear, farthest from the fireplace and closest to the shadowy corners, was becoming rather raucous; already it seemed as if a bar fight was brewing. Rouge sighed in annoyance and straightened her freshly donned apron, throwing her shoulders back and marching up to the troublemakers with a slight flare of her sinewy wings.

Two burly men looked up from a heated arm wrestling match at her approach, one a rhino who probably hailed from the distant south decked in the gear of pirates and the other looking like he was from this very village. Rouge recognized him; Kap was a komodo dragon and a scalawag of the worst sort, dealing in thievery and all kinds of shady things. Everyone around these parts knew what his business was, but the fact of the matter was no one could catch him at it; otherwise he'd have hung from the gallows by now. Kap smiled a toothy, salivated grin as she stopped by their bench. The little group got quiet as she picked up the first mug of ale from her tray, dumping it onto the scratched surface in her hurry to be away from these miscreants. The rhino gave an outcry as some of his drink slopped down the front of his coat from the force of her movement.

"Oi, lassie! Would 'a try not to ruin me clothes? I only have the one pair!" Boisterous laughter rang forth and she gritted her teeth, refusing to flush in either embarrassment or anger. She knew it would only get worse…

Kap leered at her as she smacked down the last mug, turning away and intending to rush with all due haste back to the kitchens, and reached out to snatch her wrist. She clenched her fist as his smug voice floated from behind her.

"Oh, now where are you going? Sit down, enjoy the company. I'm sure we will." Laughter again, and this time she couldn't hold back the glow of anger that flooded into her face.

_You son of a—_

"Hey, Kap, I think she needs a little _motivation_—" The hippo in leather's taunt was cut short by a slap to the face. The hilarity quieted down immediately.

"If you would kindly release me," Rouge started icily, "I might not be tempted to _plant my foot in your groin_." Kap, after a moment's hesitation, slowly relaxed his grip on her wrist and she snatched it away, stalking off with indignation. A cheer greeted her at the door to the kitchens and a fiery-furred cat rushed her, linking arms with the fruit bat and pulling her into their haven.

"Way to go, Rouge! Show those arrogant assholes who's boss!" Blaze was a serving girl at the _Golden Rings_ as well, full of cheer when it was necessary and perfectly serious when the situation called for it. Rouge gave her a proud smile.

"Of course. I was in control the entire time. Couldn't you tell?"

The hours slowly clawed by, the din from the crowd of drinkers and guests diminishing as the witching hour approached. Rouge kept track of the passage of time by the handy grandfather clock tucked away in the corner of the common room, her turquoise eyes watching the dragging hands of the clock with the focus of a predator. At last, when the chime toned two past midnight Carthy told her to go home, taking off his own apron with a yawn that stretched his sizable maws.

"We need our best girl in good shape for the morrow," he exclaimed as he opened the front door for her, waving his huge white paw as she walked sedately down the beaten road of the street, "and be careful! You have no idea what kind of riff-raff crawl the streets these days."

Rouge gestured back with a short laugh, certain in her belief that no one would _dare_ attack _her_, of all people. She wasn't Rouge for nothing, after all.

* * *

Shadow stood outside the large oak entrance to the Great Hall, leaning against the doorframe and looking for all the world perfectly composed. Knuckles entered the corridor from the door down the hall, striding towards him with confidence as the maids and servants swiveled out of his way. He slowed to a halt before the black hedgehog.

"Nervous as hell, eh?"

Shadow allowed a brief smile. "Was it really that easy to tell?"

"Not particularly. I just know you too well."

Shadow turned away from his comrade-in-arms, crossing his own across his armored chest and closing his eyes in an attempt to meditate. "Hm." Knuckles too grew quiet, hovering in the center of the passage and glancing between the doors and Shadow.

"You know they're not going to call you in for another hour at least, don't you?"

"Of course I do. It's just entertaining to see their faces when I do walk in…especially when they know I've been out here for so long and listening to everything they say."

Knuckles gave a short laugh and punched him on the shoulder, though the effect was ruined by the polished mantle protecting the hedgehog's body. "You're sick, you know that?"

"Hm."

Shadow lived his life as a soldier; more specifically one of two Generals in the Lord Hedgehog's army. If asked when he had enlisted Shadow would most likely tell you a half decade ago, but even he did not know precisely how long he had been in service, let alone anyone else. What everyone does agree on, however, is that he had rose quickly in the ranks and had achieved a status held previously only by one of Sonic's—the lord's son—closest and oldest friends, Knuckles the Echidna. In the beginning, during his first few weeks as a trainee in the barracks, most of the residents of the lord's manor would mistake him for Sonic—how Shadow couldn't imagine; their coloring was completely opposite another. Sonic himself Shadow found relatively annoying, though bearable as opposed to the majority of the fools in the local duchy.

Shadow disliked being in public, which translated well to his hatred of socializing. Because of this most people have never seen Shadow, but his was a household name in Knothole; he was well-known for his aversion to contact with others. Among the few he deigned to associate with was Knuckles, Sonic and the lord himself; Shadow passed most others by.

A rough knock to his arm broke him out of his reflective reverie and Knuckles gestured to the doors now slowly creaking open. Knuckles rolled his eyes.

"Damn theatrical piss-offs. Are you sure you want to go in there alone?"

The sudden concern was unexpected, but Shadow simply brushed himself off and turned away from his companion, rolling his shoulders and smirking. "I'm sure. Go flirt with some of the kitchen girls."

The other General bloomed maroon in the face and raised a threatening, clawed fist, an angry retort on the tip of his tongue as the Great Hall doors slammed shut in his face. Shadow glanced back briefly, wondering in amusement if Knuckles would take him up on his suggestion before returning his attention to the pompous gathering of frilly-clad idiots clamored en masse around the U-shaped table taking up the majority of the chamber. Most of them barely hid a flinch as he approached with deliberate slowness. A grin tugged at the end of his mouth when most of them refused to meet his eyes.

Being General was good.

**

* * *

A/N: This was a little experiment of mine; I had the thought earlier of 'what would the Sonic universe be like in a medieval setting?' and this just popped into my mind. I'm a huge Rouge/Shadow person, so that's what this will be. Constructive criticism is welcomed (and considered much needed) and flames will be used to motivate the characters to slave harder in the story. You don't want Rouge to work overtime serving those beasts their ale now, do you:P**


	2. Crash Course in Etiquette

In Hindsight

_Disclaimer: I don't own Sonic the Hedgehog, never will, sadly…_

**Chapter Two: Crash Course in Etiquette**

* * *

The morning dawned bright and cool, the first hints of autumn coloring the leaves of the oaks and maples that lined the clean cobblestones of the street. Rouge strolled towards the large wood and stone building on the corner of the square, her head held high despite the patchy dress and sandals she wore, or the raggedy leather gloves that kept her hands warm. The inn was just opening, the slightly grimy windows gleaming despite its grubbiness in the weak sunrise. Carthy greeted her approach from where he stood on the doorstep, sweeping off the dirt and sand that had accumulated there during the nighttime breezes. His black and white muzzle broke out in a heart-warming grin.

"Rouge! Good to see you, m'girl. Up bright and early? Ready for a new day?" Rouge smiled slightly as she paused before him, a dainty wrist coming to rest on her hip in a show of feminine charm.

"Of course. Aren't I always?" Carthy's large, furry belly shook with mirth under his splotched apron and he waved her inside, giving her a fond pat on the shoulder as she maneuvered past his bulk and into the common room.

"Good to know. You'll be setting up, then?" Rouge nodded and crossed the chamber, noting that the fireplace needed lighting and the chairs required up righting. She sighed as she entered the kitchens, already beginning to fill with the delicious aroma of freshly baked sweet bread. The cook—a mouse by the name of Suzie, who was almost always upsetting things onto her clothes but was nonetheless an excellent chef—stopped in her brewing, a canister of salt and spices poised for shaking in her left hand and a stirring spoon in her right. A chef's hat was plopped haphazardly atop her messy chestnut hair, an ear poking out from under the soft white material. She graced Rouge with a warm smile as the bat searched the cabinets for her apron.

"Good morning, Rouge. Did you sleep well?" Rouge gave a small twitch of her tail in response, one of the few parts of her still visible as she dug through a particularly large cupboard. Rouge gave a small outcry and pulled herself out of the woodwork, a filmy cream material slipping through her fingers. It was ripped.

"Of all the…Now who would dare do something like this!? That was my best apron!" Suzie gave her a sympathetic look and set the spices down, rummaging through the drawer by her side while expertly stirring the beef stew with the other. She came up with her spare, a pretty thing with baby blue floral designs made of cotton and threaded with cheap silk; it was identical to the one she wore. It wasn't as nice as Rouge's now ruined one, but the bat figured it would do. She accepted it gratefully.

"Miss Suzie, where do you want this?" Suzie turned from her stirring at the innocent, sweet voice and Rouge jumped, swiveling around to stare at the doorway that led to the stables. She suppressed a groan of annoyance when she saw who it was; instead, she settled for a lecture.

"Cream! Don't scare us like that. It's not very lady-like!" The small rabbit looked at the floor, her flip-flops swishing in the dirt she had tracked in.

"I'm sorry, Miss Rouge," the little girl said shyly, "I was only doing what I was asked…"

Suzie dropped her spoon on the scuffed countertop and briefly hugged Cream, sending a patronizing look over her head at the bat standing by the oven.

"It's alright, dearie. Rouge didn't mean it like that. She's just having a bad day is all." Cream sniffed and looked up, a teary but hopeful look in her eyes. Rouge looked away uncomfortably. She didn't mix well with kids.

"Really? Why's Miss Rouge having a bad day? She's so nice. Why would anyone want to be bad to her?" Rouge swallowed and flushed at the obviously undue praise, turning away and pretending to be interested in the fading rose patterns on the china set out neatly on a cloth next to her. Suzie gave a rather evil smile at the bat's predicament and gestured to the ruined apron still clutched in Rouge's right hand.

"See that? Some bad-mannered chap wanted to be nasty, so they ripped up her best apron. Isn't that just the meanest?" Cream nodded her head empathically, looking at Rouge in commiseration. Rouge squirmed.

"Mama can fix that, easy peasy. She's the best at sewing! I'll take it to her right away, Miss Rouge, don't you worry. We'll have it all better in no time!" In the blink of an eye the girl brightened, moving with an alarming swiftness to extract the fabric from Rouge's grip and rush back out the door, claiming she would return later to help with the cooking. Suzie smiled at the shocked fruit bat.

"See, now that wasn't so bad."

Rouge examined her gloved hand, wondering if the speed at which the material had gone missing left marks, before letting it fall to her side and sauntering out.

"Depends on your definition of 'bad', Suzie."

* * *

Well, she thought as she surveyed the slowly filling common room, the fireplace was lit, the curtains pulled back to let the morning light in and the first customers of the day were being served. All in all, the day was starting well, but in her experience Rouge knew that even the best of days could turn ugly. She brushed off an imaginary piece of lint from the apron she had belatedly borrowed from Suzie, wondering despite herself just how soon Cream's mother would repair her old one.

Cream was a sweet girl, little doubt, but she could get zealous sometimes. The rabbit had begun haunting the halls of the inn a year or so back, when her mother had moved to their village and had brought her bubbly but timid daughter with her. Rouge had met her when she was down at Amy's flower shop, picking out one of the beautiful spring arrangements for the front window of the inn. Cream had been roaming the stalls packed with colorful buds, a wondering look on her face. The young bunny had walked up to them so quietly during their conversation by the money tin that they hadn't known she was there.

'Excuse me, ma'ams,' she had said, clasping her small gloved hands before her and turning her face to her feet, 'I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm…well, sort of lost. I don't want to trouble you, but do you know where the tailor shop is? My mama works there.'

Amy had been almost freakishly understanding, soothing the distraught little girl and handing her a small bouquet of daisies to make her feel better.

'Are you sure it's okay?' she had asked hesitantly. Rouge recalled rolling her eyes in earnest. She wanted to get this job over with so she could go home. Amy, however, had other ideas.

'Rouge, will you take her to the tailor's for me? I can't leave now, and you can come and pick up your order later. Thank you so much! You're such a good friend!' and before she knew it the pink hedgehog had ushered her out the door, a suddenly cheerful bunny in tow. Rouge, with no way out of the situation, grudgingly escorted the girl to her mother's tailor shop, and had tried to make a quick getaway when Vanilla—the mother—had gently but firmly grasped her arm and pulled her inside.

'Oh no, I insist you stay for lunch. It's only proper I should thank you this way for bringing my Cream back home safely.' True, the food had been good—downright delicious, really, on par with Suzie's cooking—but Rouge had been exceedingly glad to be rid of them both, comfortable in her belief that she would never have to deal with either of them again.

No such luck. The very next afternoon Cream appeared literally out of nowhere on the front stoop of the inn, a merry smile spread across her face.

'Is Miss Rouge here? Can I talk to her? I never thanked her properly!' Rouge had allowed her in just briefly enough to be thanked before ushering the little girl out, telling Carthy not to let her in again unless she was dying—and even then only when she was in the back. Despite that, two days later Cream entered the kitchens during Rouge's shift through the stable door and had begged to be allowed to help Suzie with her cooking. The girl was good; her mother probably taught her. But anyways, she was rather annoying. Rouge could never seem to shake her. How she had managed to get past the stable boys forever astounded her. Her! And she was the local authority on sneaking!

Rouge shook her head, ridding herself of her memories only when Blaze began to tug harshly on her elbow. Rouge yanked it away unceremoniously, rubbing the sore spot and hissing.

"_What is it_?" If Blaze heard the tone of the bat's voice she disregarded it completely, pointing to the door with an awed expression.

"Look, Rouge, look! I can't believe my eyes! It's the _Generals_!"

Rouge jumped in shock, turning to follow her friend's finger. "You're joking."

"No, really, look!"

The door to the street had opened and the common room grew pressingly quiet, only the faint echoes of Suzie's cooking clattering in the background. A metallic, booted foot crossed the threshold, followed closely by a well-muscled soldier clad in platemail. He had scarlet dreadlocks and piercing amethyst eyes. Rouge recognized him immediately through the various descriptions she had heard from the soldiers that liked to drink themselves dead in the inn.

Blaze nearly swooned. "It's General Knuckles!" she squealed under her breath, clawing for Rouge's arm and squeezing the feeling out of it in her excitement. Rouge tried, but couldn't pull away. She groaned in vexation.

Several more soldiers, most nondescript compared to the General, followed in his wake. It appeared they were the only ones in the brigade, and the noise level had begun to swell when another foot stepped into the doorway. Most breathing in the chamber ceased immediately. Blaze's grip on her arm increased tenfold and Rouge attempted desperately to pry her now terrified companion off, but Blaze seemed to have glued herself to Rouge's side.

"Please tell me that's not who I think it is," the cat whispered. It was the only sound in the room, and it echoed.

The foot was followed by another well-muscled soldier, this time black and crimson with flyaway spikes. Rouge knew who he was, though she figured no one in their whole village had actually ever _seen_ him before. It was Shadow, the other of the two Generals in the Lord Hedgehog's military, and the most feared individual this side of Mobius. He paused in the doorway, searching the room with a dispassionate ruby gaze before settling down at the table Knuckles had commandeered, leaning back and crossing his arms. Those eyes unnerved her.

Slowly people began to breathe again, sluggishly returning to their own tasks and conversations. They still threw glances at him—as if he couldn't see them at it—and the atmosphere was far more subdued than Rouge had ever had the privilege to see it, but she refused to let that get her down. She finally managed to pull away from Blaze, whose terror was reduced to mere apprehension for now, and whisked off the kitchens, Blaze at her heels.

* * *

Rouge continued her duty for another quarter hour, flitting between tables at a record pace and serving up a storm that would make Mother Nature green with envy—no pun intended, naturally. She had just returned to the kitchens for another tray when a sudden outcry reached her acute ears.

"NO! No, I will not! He'll eat me alive!"

A sigh of exasperation and Suzie's patient voice followed the alarmed shriek. "He will not, Blaze. Just take their drinks to them. They aren't going to eat you."

Rouge entered the room just as Blaze responded, her normally sleek tail puffed up in agitation. "How do you know that? Huh? That's it exactly! _No one knows anything about him_! He could cannibalize on children, for all we know!"

Rouge wrinkled her prim nose in disgust. "Nice mental image, Blaze. I really needed that." The cat turned from her argument and her eyes lit on Rouge, a relief that knew no bounds spreading across her face. Rouge felt trepidation well within her like water. She recalled she generally disliked water, especially rain; it got into her fur and made her look a fright.

"Oh, just in time! Rouge, you know you're my best friend in the whole wide world, right? How I'd do anything for you? Well, right now I need a _teensy_ little favor. Please? Pretty please?"

Rouge crossed her arms over her voluptuous chest, clicking her feet on the dirty stone of the floor. "What do you want from me?"

"I need you to take this to the Generals' table," Blaze explained in a rush, thrusting a tray into Rouge's arms and spinning her about, thanking her profusely for doing this for her; she was such a good friend! Rouge shook her head, backpedaling against the force of the cat pushing at her back.

"What! Why do I have to do this!?" Blaze stopped her shoving and clasped her hands pleadingly, widening her eyes in an blameless gesture.

"Because you're my best friend! You don't want them to eat me alive, do you?"

"I don't want _you_ being eaten alive? I don't want _me_ to be eaten alive!" Rouge tried to give her back the plate but Blaze shied away from it, looking rather pathetic in her desperation and panic.

"Please? Just this once? I'll give you my salary for a month, I promise." Rouge didn't budge, and Blaze could see it on her face. "I'll give you those sapphire earrings you like so much. Please?"

Rouge's elegant eyebrows jumped to her ears at the proposition, and she knew now how serious this request was. Blaze had received those earrings from her late mother, the only thing she had of her, and Rouge knew well and good she would rather die than give those up.

Well…She _did_ have a thing for sapphires…gems in general, really… "Alright," she sighed, taking the tray firmly in her hands, "but you owe me, and I expect those earrings at my house by nightfall. Got it?"

Blaze squealed and pulled Rouge into a back-breaking hug, knocking the air out of the curvy bat. "Oh, thank you thank you thank you! I owe you!"

Rouge grumbled under her breath and pulled away, righting her clothing with a simple tug of her fingers. "Yes, well, you remember that." She took a deep breath and squared her trim shoulders, facing the doorway to the common room with a fierce determination. If she was to play hostess she might as well do it right. She stepped towards the door, and even as she did so she felt distinctly like the cattle heading for the slaughter.

_Nice analogy, Rouge. Real nice._

* * *

"Oh lighten up, Shadow," the echidna requested in exasperation, thumping his rather formidable fist against the table. It creaked ominously. "It's not like a little ale will kill you."

Shadow graced him with a look that said quite plainly it would, and that whoever dared defy him would end up dead as well. Knuckles threw his hands in the air and leaned back in his chair, letting the rumble of the soldiers merrymaking wash over him. Normally he wouldn't be so damned cheerful (if you could even _call_ it that) but he felt this was a rather dire situation. His comrade needed to loosen up before facing the nobility again, or else he'd end up murdering someone like he did last time. Across the wooden surface from him Shadow closed his eyes, trying to block out the racket.

_Gods, how did he convince me to come out here…_

Catcalling pulled him out of his thoughts and he opened his eyes, focusing in on the sudden object of attention. A white fruit bat approached their table, a tray balanced skillfully in her hand and the other resting on her hip.

"Alright, who ordered what?" She said in a velvety voice, casting her eyes about the soldiers who sat at the table. Most of them grinned wolfishly when she looked at them. Shadow couldn't fathom why; yes, she was rather pretty, beautiful in fact, and could probably be more so if she wore any face paint, but really, what was the deal? Shadow scoffed quietly and turned to Knuckles, intent upon making his opinion known, but the echidna's eyes were glued to her curvy figure as well. Shadow snarled in disgust. Of all the people…!

"Get it on with already," he grumbled aloud, letting his deep rough voice cut through the spell the bat had woven over his men like a hot knife through butter. They immediately turned their attention back to their own conversations, refusing to look up for fear of meeting his eye.

The bat raised an eyebrow at the display. Whether she was impressed or not he couldn't tell, which was odd in its own right, but really, he didn't care. Knuckles had dragged him out here to drink, and he'd damn well drink if it would get him out of here. He was satisfied with his demand, sure upon quick results, but the batgirl's voice knocked him out of it with a harsh slap of reality.

"Well well well, look who's grumpy. Didn't get enough sleep last night, Goth boy?" Dead silence suddenly reigned in the common room as most of the patrons turned from their drinks to watch the display, unabashed surprise written on their faces. Shadow was astonished as well. Who did this girl think she was, talking to him like that? He was the _General_! He could have her hung for talking that way to him, and he knew she knew it. He scowled at her bold and defiant attitude. And worse, she was a woman!

"Well? Cat got your tongue?" He felt certain he heard a frightened squeak from somewhere in the back of the room, or was he just imagining it? "Or just your manhood?" Low blow. He froze, rigid in righteous fury, and most of his men immediately pulled their chairs away. Even Knuckles edged from him a bit.

"What did you just say?" He growled dangerously, clenching his fist tightly under the table. He couldn't hit a woman; it wasn't honorable. He had to keep reminding himself, though it was certainly getting harder to do, now that the bat had set her burden down and was busy leaning across the table with her fists planted atop the timber, stopping an inch from his face. _No one_ got that close to him. _Ever_. And he'd make sure she knew that.

Rouge knew she had gone too far, the moment his eyes narrowed in on her. They still unnerved her; who had eyes the color of devil's fire? Certainly no one good. He _was_ rather scary—_and handsome_, a distant and unwelcome part of her remarked—but when had she let something like that stop her from speaking her mind before? Instead of cowering when she knew she should, she did what she recognized as the worst thing she could have: she leaned in closer to him than she was sure anyone had in a long, long time and squared him in the eye. She was in, now, and there was no way she was backing out of a challenge.

"I _said_," she reiterated slowly, as if speaking to a child, "Does your manhood have your tongue?" She couldn't see his fist, but just by the minute flexing of his arm she could tell he was clenching and unclenching it.

_Good. Let him suck on that lemon, the arrogant son of a bitch._

She was certain he wouldn't take a swing at her; she was a woman, after all, and he presumably a knight; it just wouldn't do for him to try to hit her.

So much for what she knew. Rouge barely had enough time to duck as his fist snapped out to strike at where her face had been not a millisecond before, the force behind the swing enough to make the air whistle when he cut through it. People stopped moving and just stared. Rouge found herself gawking, too. Shadow retracted his hand, gazing at it in surprise as if it had been possessed before grunting and standing up, his chair toppling back from the sudden movement. Rouge jumped back skittishly, wondering with a nervousness she hadn't known she could feel if he was going to swing at her again, but he simply left the inn through the front door, slamming the wooden framework closed behind him. The other General, Knuckles, suddenly chuckled, and Rouge turned to gape at him instead.

"I'd congratulate you on getting under his skin," he said, hefting himself out of his chair with a sigh of regret, "but what you just did…well, he's going to make your life a living hell now." And he left as well, leaving the common room suspended in perpetual shock. Rouge rocked back on her heels and rushed for the kitchen door, unable to take the stares now imprinted upon her fleeing figure, not stopping to answer Blaze's frantic questions as she threw open the doors to the stables and rocketed off towards her home. She couldn't suppress the urge to look behind her, in case someone was following.

She hoped to everything good in the world that she never saw him again—hell, that he didn't show up in the inn tomorrow with a full armament and a warrant for her arrest and subsequent execution! She shivered at the thought as she arrived home, bulldozing down the door and locking it behind her. Rouge slumped to the floor and held her head in her hands.

_Gods_, she had such bad luck.

**

* * *

A/N: This chapter was so much fun to write. :) I'm glad the idea of the Sonic universe set in medieval times wasn't too repulsive to bear, so I'm going to go ahead and continue this story for now.**

**On Blaze: Her character in this story is _far_ different from that known in 'canon' but I had to bend it for the sake of the story, so she's going to stay like this for the duration. I would have made an OC to fill in the position of Rouge's 'best friend' instead, but one thing readers should know: I _hate_ using OCs. It's my belief that they detract from the storyline and canon characters. Not to say I hate reading about them; I just hate writing them.**

**Also, normally I would (almost never) update so soon after posting, but I felt inspiration tugging at my heels. Since this isn't my main writing account (I have another where I do all my serious writing) this probably won't be updated as quickly (probably around every week or two, if I can manage it) but I am still continuing. Even if no one but those few blessed people who have already read it, read it, I'm still happy knowing I'm writing it and posting. I've been wanting to write a story with this pairing for a long time. :)**


	3. Apology Not Accepted

**In Hindsight**

_Disclaimer: I don't own Sonic the Hedgehog, never will, sadly…_

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Three: Apology Not Accepted**

* * *

This had to be one of _the most_ foolish things he had ever done. He called it foolish, because one such as he normally would _not_ go about, knocking on the stoops of inns to find a fruit bat that would probably be too frightened to accept an admission of guilt.

An admission of guilt for what, you ask? Oh, most likely one of the most sinful acts one could perpetrate against a female. Certainly swinging at her head wasn't the best way to go about introductions.

Shadow scoffed at his roaming thoughts, pushing them aside and glaring with all due malignancy at the piece of wood before him. Truly, was a door meant to be so intimidating? Odd thing, to call a door, but Shadow used the word intimidating for one sole reason. He knew all there was to know about intimidating; he was the very _essence_ of the term. He had faced things most sane people would have nightmares about, and lived with no residual aftertastes because of it. This door, he had to admit against his pride and vanity, could easily surpass him in intimidation ranking.

Blast it; this was supposed to be _easy_! He had donned his armor and left the castle this morning thinking he would simply walk up to the inn, speak his apologies and be off about it. But no! He had to bested by the bloody _door_!

Shadow was very much glad Knuckles wasn't here with him at the moment. With his acute ears he could just make out the ghostly echo of the echidna's laughter. Of all the people, _Shadow_ was too anxious to walk through a door!

He had enough with this nonsense. The stares he was receiving from the townsfolk was doing nothing to alleviate his fouling temper, and there would be no point in speaking to the bat if he simply frightened her off again. Shadow reached for the handle of the entry, gritting his jaw and glaring for all he was worth—

The door swung open a millisecond before he could lay a hand on it, an overweight panda bear staring at him in shock from beyond the frame. They stood there for a few awkward moments, seemingly suspended in time, before the bear spoke.

"Whaddya want?" The gruff tone and indignant glower was the last thing Shadow expected from such a pathetic looking creature, and he could feel the hackles rising in the back of his mind. He pushed them away steadfastly.

"I'm here to apologize," he stated calmly after a moment's deliberation, meeting the bear with a fierce stare of his own. "My actions the other day were deplorable. I feel it only right that I should make an apology." Unspoken was the thought '_Do you have a problem with that?_' hanging between them like fog, obscuring each male's expression from the other. Finally, the bear spoke. It was reluctant at best.

"Fine," he grated, stepping aside grudgingly to admit entrance. "Consider yourself fortunate the inn ain't open yet. Get your grovelin' over with and get out. I won't have you harassing her anymore." Shadow graced him with a look of the surprise. The bear looked just as amazed, and he seemed to realize just whom he had been speaking to. Within seconds his face had drained of color and he had backed off to a respectful distance, pulling out a worn handkerchief and mopping at his suddenly sweaty face. "I'll, ah, be over here…" The bear moved away with as much haste as his dignity would allow. Shadow felt a small, sadistic grin tug at his face before he straightened it out again, looking about the room for his target.

The chamber itself was in a very mild state of disorganization, a few chairs resting on their backs and a table over in the corner upturned. Shadow dismissed the mess and moved slowly about the common room, scanning the walls with keen eyes. Surely she would be at the inn by now. So where would she be? The kitchen occurred to him, and Shadow proceeded to the nearest door. He tugged on it and looked beyond the frame, noting with a pang of annoyance that it was not the room he had been searching for; instead a rickety staircase led up and beyond his vision. He pulled his head back and closed the door, feeling the only too familiar sensation of irritation creeping upon him. Part of him demanded that he leave that very instant, the idea that this whole charade was a waste of time parading about his head temptingly. He disregarded it, however, as his sense of decency—very weak to begin with, he would admit—was insisting he do what was proper and pay his apologies. Sometimes he hated being so honorable.

A high-pitched giggle brought his attention crashing to the door in the crook, almost hidden in the shadows cast by the early morning light shining through the windows. Shadow moved stealthily towards it, raising his fist to rap on the wood. He hesitated for a moment, schooling his features into an impassive mask, before gently knocking his knuckles into the door three times. A sudden and alien silence gripped the unseen occupants of the next room, and Shadow could make out the timid thud of footsteps beyond the door. A voice cut through the quiet like a blade, and Shadow had to restrain himself from jumping at the unanticipated noise. He could hear the panda bear snickering somewhere behind him. He resisted the urge to throw a glare in the innkeeper's direction.

"Oh, just open the door, Rouge! Carthy isn't going to eat you, silly girl." The footsteps, which had paused during the short monologue, once again took up their occupation of thudding lightly across the floorboards, moving more swiftly than before. A shadow slid out from under the doorframe, and before Shadow had the chance to knock again the door flew open. On the other side stood the bat—Shadow guessed her name was Rouge, seeing as how she was the one to answer his knocking—gaping in shock for all she was worth. A split moment passed between the two before the wood crashed to a halt between the pair, blocking her once again from his view. He could hear furious whispers echoing from the kitchen.

"Rouge? Who was it?" The voice was concerned but unassuming. Rouge's, however, was positively frantic.

"Oh! Suzie, _hide me_! It's the General! Oh, I knew he wasn't going to let yesterday go so easily!" Shadow would have laughed if the conversation didn't intrigue him so. "How many men do you think he brought?"

"Rouge, I think you need to calm down…"

"_Calm down_!? How on Mobius am I supposed to _calm down!?_ He's probably here to…" Shadow never did find out what she thought he was here to accomplish, for suddenly the slamming of a distant gate cut off all hopes of further eavesdropping. Silence hung heavy like a veil, and after a moment Shadow could hear the bear speak softly behind him.

"Well, _that_ went well…"

Shadow crushed his hands into fists, the ruby eyes that were his trademark narrowing into slits. By Chaos, how hard was she going to make this!?

* * *

Rouge's day had started normally enough. She had awoken a few hours before dawn, as she always did, and had taken a quick, cold bath. Carthy had greeted her at the door of the inn—as always—and she had entered the common room, picking her way through the small mess to the kitchen. Suzie was already baking; the chef's hat once more plopped atop her head. Rouge noted it had a small rip in it that hadn't been there the day before.

"Good morning, Rouge. Weren't ambushed on the way, were you?" Rouge smiled weakly at the good-humored teasing, though she wished Suzie could have picked a different subject. She didn't need any more stress right now.

"Please don't, Suzie. I nearly died when I saw two soldiers coming down the street earlier. I thought for sure they were on orders to arrest me!"

Suzie clicked her tongue sympathetically, her hands wrist deep in the soft, gooey dough that was to be the afternoon rolls. She extracted one hand from the sticky mess and reached over to a nearby platter, picking up a small loaf of sourdough bread. She tossed it to Rouge, who, in her surprise, had to fumble to catch it.

"Suzie! I can't eat this! It's for the morning crowd!"

Suzie waved it off, gesturing behind her with a wink. Rouge followed the motion and frowned at the sight of another tray resting on the counter, still steaming, however faintly.

"I'm prepared. Besides, I'm certain you need something to take you mind off the other day. I know how much you adore sourdough." Rouge looked down at the deliciously warm baked good clasped gingerly between her fingers, and she could feel her mouth watering the longer she stared at it. She held out for a moment longer before giving in, tearing off a small piece and popping it into her mouth. She smiled at the taste.

"Excellent as always, Suzie. Thank you. I guess I do need something to occupy my mind. Yesterday was terrifying! I was up most of the night wondering when the soldiers were going to break my door down."

Suzie hummed in acknowledgement of the statement and continued kneading the dough. Rouge spent the next few minutes quietly savoring her treat. She knew she would have to don her apron—or rather Suzie's; Cream's mother was still working on her ripped one—and head out to serve the first patrons of the day, but for the moment she deigned to enjoy what little free time she would have until tomorrow morning.

A slight commotion from the common room caused Rouge's acute ears to perk up, but after a few moments of silence she dismissed it as Carthy stumbling into a stray chair. The bear was wonderful, but he really ought to work more on his coordination. Rouge voiced her thoughts aloud, and Suzie let out a quick giggle. The two women smiled at each other, sharing in on their little quip, before three raps came at the door. Rouge froze, wondering if perhaps Carthy had heard her comment. She frowned at the thought as she slowly edged closer to the door. Surely Carthy wouldn't knock for entry, would he? After all, he owned the inn; the very room Suzie and she were standing in, and everything within. She paused a few feet from the door, hesitating on moving further. For some inexplicable reason Rouge felt a cold tendril of dread rush through her heart at the sight of a shadow beneath the doorframe.

"Oh, just open the door, Rouge! Carthy isn't going to eat you, silly girl." Rouge jumped at the sound of Suzie's sweet soprano, and swiftly she moved towards the door, her hand outstretched towards the handle. She flung the door open, fully prepared to see Carthy standing beyond the frame, but the sight that greeted her instead froze her muscles in a spasm of panic.

Halfway in the shadows and halfway out, the General she had offended the previous day stood before her, a tightly fisted hand raised as if to knock on the door again. His unnatural eyes shone brightly through the darkness and met hers, silently. For the briefest of moments Rouge gaped in shock at his sudden and seemingly random appearance before she slammed the door shut again, the echo of it beating in time with her thundering heart. Suzie turned to her, concern written across her face for all to see.

"Rouge? Who was it?"

Rouge stared beyond her for a moment before rushing forward to take the mouse's arm in a death grip, her already pale face draining of all color.

"Oh! Suzie, _hide me_! It's the General! Oh, I knew he wasn't going to let yesterday go so easily!" Rouge pleaded mindlessly, her grip upon Suzie's arm increasing tenfold. Within moments a new, even more frightening concept occurred to her other than her imminent arrest. "How many men do you think he brought?"

Suzie's concerned visage collapsed into a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. "Rouge, I think you need to calm down…"

"_Calm down_!? How on Mobius am I supposed to _calm down!?_ He's probably here to order my execution!" Rouge's alarmed babble grew steadily higher in pitch as she dragged Suzie towards the gate that led to the stables. Suzie was eying her apprehensively.

The fresh air outside, though momentarily pleasant, did little to relieve Rouge's grieved mind. Suzie carefully extracted her arm from the bat's hands, rubbing it gently to assess the damage. It wouldn't bruise, thankfully, but it was very much tender.

"Rouge! You need to calm down. If he was here to arrest you don't you think he would have broken the door down?" Rouge's frantic pacing back and forth paused for a moment, before she spun to regard Suzie with trepidation.

"You don't think he would, do you?" Suzie was pleased to note that Rouge appeared to be calming down; she was no longer violently wringing her hands, though she resumed her steady pacing without recess.

"No. I think that if that was his intention, he would have already had you in bonds by now." Suzie's eyes alighted on Rouge. "Perhaps he is here to apologize to you?"

Rouge stopped her pacing once again, the cool reason she was known for slowly inching its way back into her mind. "I don't think so. Why would he apologize to me? He's a general and I'm a serving girl. It's similar to asking the King to beg the forgiveness of a soldier. It just doesn't happen, Suzie."

Suzie shrugged, her gaze torn between the bat and the door leading back to the kitchens. The heavy scent of hay and manure was starting to irritate her delicate nose. "Don't be too certain. You may be surprised. Now, if you don't mind, I'm getting away from this place. It reeks something terrible." Rouge sniffed the air as Suzie retreated to the kitchens, grimacing in distaste at the odor. She hesitated for a moment, the familiar foreboding welling up inside her before she too returned to the inn, the stench of the stables almost immediately overcome by the scent of sourdough and sweet rolls. Rouge smiled, slightly heartened by it, and she turned to face the door to the common room.

It seemed a simple matter to walk to the door and open it, but to Rouge it was daunting. She took a few minutes to compose herself before stepping forward, hand moving to swing the door open.

He hadn't moved, other than to clench his fist at his side. His eyes, already very narrow to begin with, zoned in on her the moment the wood ceased to be between them.

She managed a weak smile.

"Good morning, General. Are you here for your breakfast?"

Oh gods, oh gods, that was pathetic, and now he was glaring! She rooted her feet to the ground, determined not to shrink back. Her pride was always getting her into trouble.

"No," He said after a moment. His voice was strained slightly, as if he had to drag the syllable out of his system. "No," He repeated. His fist relaxed, but his arm still twitched occasionally. "That's not what I'm here for."

His expression, coupled with the death of her feeble, desperate hopes had cold sweat breaking out on Rouge's forehead. He _was_ here to arrest her! She had been right!

She gulped and smoothed her hands upon the front of Suzie's apron. She worked to gather moisture in her mouth. "Then how may I help you, sir?"

His eyes grew, if possible, narrower. He actually _growled_ at her.

"Enough of this." He stepped back, and for the briefest moment Rouge felt a pulse of relief within her cocoon of terror before he motioned for her to follow him.

She pointed at herself stupidly. "Me?"

The nod he gave was tight and controlled, and she stepped delicately beyond the doorway. She could feel Suzie's eyes on her back, following her out. Carthy stood at the edge of the room near the door to the staircase. His head was down and he swept fastidiously. The General paced further into the room, and the panda managed an encouraging glance before resuming his chore.

Rouge felt a cold block of ice settle in her stomach.

"Then what are you here for?" She asked, attempting to sound meek, but it came out as a challenge despite her efforts. The General scowled at her, and she sweated harder.

He seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, eyes drifting across the room as if subconsciously searching for a diversion. At last, his hand clenching and unclenching, his gaze settled back upon her.

"To apologize," he said after what seemed a lifetime. Rouge felt she might faint from the lack of liquid in her body; it was all on her brow and dripping down her back. She goggled.

"What?"

* * *

"To apologize," he repeated, teeth gritted. Every grudging word was dragged forcefully from his body. "I apologize for my actions the other day. They were uncalled for." _Lies_, his mind whispered to him. He shut it out. "It was dishonorable to strike at a lady—" _You are no lady, woman—_ "and for that I apologize."

For a moment she stood there, her expression confused, and he felt a great burden lift from his shoulders. At last, this nonsense was over with! He could return to the castle, now. He had business overseeing the barracks this afternoon. He made to turn away, but an outraged and disgusted exclamation stopped him dead.

"_Apologize? Dishonorable?_ Pah! Don't be so high on your saddle! You're not apologizing because I'm a lady, you're trying to save your own pride!"

Shadow felt his temper boil dangerously close to the breaking point. Why was this bat able to get under his skin like this?? It was unfathomable! "My _pride_? Believe me, woman, if I had any intention of saving my _pride_ I wouldn't have bothered coming and apologizing to a witch such as yourself!"

Her face twisted in anger. He heard that rotund panda hiss at her ("What do you think you're doing, Rouge? Stop—!") and a gasp from the kitchens, but his attention was all for the banshee glaring at him. Had she no sense? The urge to throttle her was overwhelming, and Shadow was aghast at the feeling. To do that to a woman? What was _wrong_ with him?

But then again, he reflected darkly as he stared at this particular woman, perhaps it would be excusable. She certainly was no lady, in manners and certainly not of birth.

"A _witch_? A _WITCH_?" He heard a groan this time from beyond the door. "How _dare_ you?! I am no _witch_! You are certainly a thousand times worse than I could ever be! You come here, feigning repentance, but all you wanted was to assuage your own pride, because you can't stand letting a woman beat you without having the final word!"

His fury tipped up to the measure, and with a deep breath and grit teeth he seethed. He couldn't hit her. He couldn't swing at her. He had already made _that_ mistake, and look where it brought him? To a worse position than if he had just let it go.

"I stand by my apology," He said at last, the words half-mangled with the snarl bubbling in his throat. With deliberate control he whirled on his heel, boots clunking harshly as he made for the door. She called him back, demanding he stay and fight like a man, but he ignored her. The panda skittered out of his way, and as he left he slammed the door behind him as hard as he could. It creaked ominously on its hinges, and he ignored the horrified denizens opening a circle around him.

He couldn't care. He _could not care._ He was far too angry for normalcy now. He had to get it under rein, and the only thing he could think of was thrashing as many soldiers as he could find.

**

* * *

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**A/N: I do apologize for taking so long (I know, it won't be enough, but still) but I actually forgot all about this for a long time. (Slightly ashamed.) I can't believe I did, but I did. Well, now I'm back. Updates still won't be frequent (this isn't my main account) but for now, a new chapter for you.**

**I've learned to love writing Rouge and Shadow. Dr. Pill is right; Shadow _isn't_ a nice character, and neither is Rouge. I guess that's why I enjoy writing them.**


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